


Explanations

by PipMer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipMer/pseuds/PipMer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for  the <a href="http://221b-drabbles.livejournal.com/">221b_drabbles</a> community's Challenge 1, which requires the use of 'bone' for the 'b' word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explanations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [221b_drabbles](http://221b-drabbles.livejournal.com/) community's Challenge 1, which requires the use of 'bone' for the 'b' word. Please check us out, we're new and don't have many members yet.

“Daddy, what is Uncle Sherlock doing?”

 

John smiled and tousled his son’s hair.  “He’s doing an experiment, Hamish,” he explained to the five year old.  Feeling mischievous, he added, “Why don’t you ask him to explain it to you?”

 

Sherlock scowled.  “Busy,” he bit out.

 

“Come on, Sherlock, he’s your godson, it won’t hurt you to pay a bit of attention to him.  It’s not like we come over that often anymore.  Go on, tell him what you’re up to. You don’t have me around twenty-four seven anymore to show off for.”

 

Sherlock sighed.  “Honestly, John, I don’t understand why you made me godfather.  It’s not like I live in an environment conducive to child-rearing, and I’m certainly not parent material.  What _were_ you thinking?”

 

John rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure I don’t know.  I was an idiot when I made that decision.”

 

Sherlock opened his mouth, but John forestalled him before he could get a word out.

 

“I know, I’m _always_ an idiot.  Please, Sherlock, he adores you.  Go on, give him a science lesson."

 

“Alright, alright.”  Sherlock gave Hamish a tentative smile.  He turned back to the kitchen table, bringing his fingers up to his lips, his standard ‘thinking’ pose.  Now, how was he going to explain the presence of that bone to Hamish?  A pristine, white, _human_ bone.


End file.
